New Attitude
by SabyCat
Summary: Poor Matthew is kind-hearted and quiet, nonetheless he has been cheated on countless times by his "lover" Francis, but when faced with how much of a sex-craving beast that Francis is and being labeled as "just a friend", will Matthew be able to recover and fight to get Francis' full attention? Franada with mild pinch of RusCan.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**__: Truth be told, I'm not a real fan of France, but a friend of mine got me totally obsessed with the idea of pairing him up with cute little Canada (even if it is just this once ^^)._

_**WARNING**__: This story contains male/male erotic material (thus rated M) in the pairing Franada (France and Canada) with mild RusCan (Russia and Canada.)_

* * *

**New Attitude**

a _Hetalia_ fanfic

by: SabyCat

Matthew smelled the reek of perfume and cologne before he even entered Francis' country estate, but he thought nothing of it, Francis did love the aromas with a passion. He made his way down the extravagant halls, lined with priceless paintings and statues to a room that he was all too familiar with, Francis' bedroom. The Canadian cracked open the door shyly, after all he had come unannounced and didn't really have a special occasion to be there in the first place, he just really wanted to see Francis again and thank him for taking him to dinner the other day. From the slight opening in the door, laughter and more perfume spilled out into the hall and Matthew had to suppress a cough. Inside the room, Francis lay in the center of his bed, clothed only in a silk robe, with a total of six women touching and pawing at him. The women had finely crafted faces and expensive garments that hung loosely off their very developed bodies. Matthew had begun to subconsciously grip at the hem of his shirt. His skin had gone cold as boisterous laughter echoed about the room and into the halls.

The Canadian felt as if a needle had plunged itself into his chest as one of the women crawled up into the Frenchman's lap, before Matthew could stop himself he quickly stepped into the room. Francis greeted him with a bit of a surprised smile. The women looked at Matthew warily before following Francis' mood and smiling as well.

"He's so cute!" one of the women exclaimed. Another rose from her place under Francis' arm to get a closer look at him. She approached him and leaned forward, showing off her cleavage, possibly intentionally.

"He looks so young, is he some cousin of yours?"

"Oh, no. This is my good friend from Canada." Francis said with amusement in his voice. His words seemed to cut into Matthew's skin in cold lashes. A friend? After all the time they had been together, after all the times Francis had **said** that he loved him, he was still only considered another one of his _friends_? Matthew could only stare at the French-man as something in his chest seemed to crack.

"He _is_ adorable!" the woman before him squealed as she reached out a hand to touch his face. Matthew flinched back as his body began to tense and a chill rushed over his frozen skin. With one last pained look toward the bed, he bolted out of the room.

"And shy too." the woman giggled and returned to the bed to snuggle back under Francis' arm. Francis continued to smile and compliment the ladies as they failed to notice how painfully tight he was gritting his teeth.

* * *

Matthew laid in his bed, curled up in a big warm blanket and surrounded by pillows, as he held on tightly to his soft teddy bear. Daylight peeked through the windows, despite the thick curtains, making him turn over so he could inch back into the shadows and possibly get some sleep.

It had been a few days since Matthew had walked in on Francis' little party. Matthew knew damn well that the French-man was a flirt and a pervert, but he still didn't expect to really see him like that just the day after they had gone out for a date. The pain of the needle that had pierced into his chest returned and it seemed as though the deadly metal had directed its point to be just a hair away from his sorrowful heart. All of the sudden the door slammed open.

"Hey Bro!" Yelled a familiar voice as it shook the room. The Canadian grimaced as Alfred, his older brother, bounded into the room and flopped on the bed next to him. Grabbing his shoulder he shook the Canadian. "Bro! Are you up? Come on let's go to McDonald's together!" It was then that the American decided to read the room's atmosphere. "Man, it's really dark in here. Are you like turning into a vampire or something?" Tears came faster to Matthew's eyes then he could counter, Francis always loved to believe he was some type of vampire. Stupid, stupid Francis. Matthew threw the teddy bear he had held straight at the American's face.

"Stupid brother! Go away! And no I don't want to go to that fattening place!" he yelled, but it came out way softer then he thought it would. He curled back under the covers while silently cursing his soft-spoken voice. Alfred looked at the mound of blankets and stuffed animals and smiled knowingly.

"Did you get dumped?" Matthew didn't answer, but curled up even more. "Well there really is only way to get over someone. And that's..." he violently ripped the covers off the bed and grabbed Matthew, throwing him over his shoulder. "to go back out there, and come with me to McDonald's."

"No way! You just want me to go with you!" Matthew thrashed hopelessly as he was dragged out of his dark room.

* * *

Matthew sipped at his soda straw half-heartedly as he slumped over the McDonald's table. His eyes burned slightly from crying so hard all night, and he felt as if he had been hit by a car. In front of him, Alfred was too busy scarfing on fries and burgers to notice his depression, Matthew sighed. Why the heck was he out here? He didn't really want to be in the sunlight, but surprisingly he **was** starting to feel better. Matthew rose his eyes from his drink to skim over the table, even more surprising than that, was that Kiku Honda, who was such a kind and polite man, had decided to go with them. Between Alfred's scarfing the Canadian leaned forward and whispered to the Japanese man.

"Um, not to be rude, but why did you actually want to come here?" the Japanese man looked at him with withdrawn brown eyes, but then to Matthew's grand surprise, he smiled.

"He makes a dull day interesting."

That's what the Japanese man had said before telling him the he would distract Alfred so that Matthew could make a quick escape. Now Matthew had walked back home, but he really wasn't ready to go directly home yet, and back to his depressing room. Instead, he paced through his homeland where snow had made a thick blanket on the ground, he pulled his thick winter jacket close and walked on to somewhere he knew would make him feel better.

The ice-rink was empty, after all there was no real need for it when the lakes outside were frozen solid, even the small food shops had moved to fit the demands. Matthew laced up his ice-skates, and trading his fluffy jacket for hockey equipment, headed out onto the ice. Waiting for him, was someone he definitely did not expect to see.

"I-Ivan Braginski!? What are you doing here?" Matthew was completely confused, was he looking for Alfred and just happened to get lost?

"I delivered a package to your brother earlier and decided to come by." He smiled at the Canadian as he skated a little closer, his scarf flowing behind him.

"Um, I'm flattered, but why?"

"To play of course." Ivan rose his hockey stick into view, all the while keeping his face calm and gentle. This made the Canadian smirk.

"Still about 1972*? Well alright, I'll take you on."

Skates ripped apart the ice as weapons and bodies clashed together at a near bone-shattering strength. The two men raced along the ice after the puck as if it were life or death and both definitely seemed ready to kill one another. After Matthew had stolen the puck with his greater speed and agility, over Ivan's strength and controlled rage, he raced towards the goal. As he was just about to score a force hit him in the shoulder making him topple over and hit the ice, back first. The Russian then smoothly took the puck and knocked it right into the goal on the opposite side of the rink, thus winning their little scrimmage.

"Well, you've gotten stronger."

"Da." the Russian continued to smile as he stretched out a hand to the Canadian.

"Still doesn't change 1972." Ivan shrugged and pulled Matthew to his feet. The both of them skated to the edge of the rink and went to sit on a bench.

"So, why did you come here today?"

"You were here when I arrived, it's safe to assume that you already know." the Canadian shrugged with a faint smile.

"Da, but it is always nice to hear people tell me information in person." Matthew looked sideways at the Russian who smiled at him. Behind that smile was a world of mysteries, but Matthew could tell that Ivan was, for the most part, generally concerned. Matthew sighed; telling someone would probably make him feel better, even if just for a little while.

"Francis cheated on me, for about the hundredth time." Matthew leaned against the back of the bench and looked at the ice-rink absently. "I went to see him the day after we went out on a date, and there he was, covered in women. Again. I mean, I know he's a flirt with a wandering eye, but in front of all those women, he just seemed to recognize me as another one of his sex-friends. I still can't believe I'm sulking."

"He doesn't deserve it?"

"Absolutely not." Matthew laughed slightly, despite the tears that threatened at the back of his eyes.

"He doesn't deserve you?" Matthew shook his head as he smiled at the ground. "Good. At least you know that. Now tell me what you are _really_ depressed about."

"Even though I shouldn't, I still do love him and I-I'm still afraid that he is just going to forget about me like almost everyone else has. I don't want to become invisible to him, but I do** not** want to become like one of those desperate women that always chase after him." Matthew put a hand to his face, but the Russian leaned forward and pulled it away.

"Then why not have him chase you?" Matthew was about to ask what he was talking about when Ivan pulled him, by the waist, over him to straddle his lap. Matthew's face went completely red as he struggled to move away, but the Russian's grip held him in place.

"Wh-what are you do-"

"You are much stronger than you look," Ivan's amethyst eyes peered into Matthew "but you hide it with your shy demeanor." Ivan slid a hand under Matthew's shirt and under-armor to take a hold on his bare hip, making Matthew shiver at the cold skin contact. "Francis deals with shy girls and shameless women all day long, but to have a strong and confident partner is rare for him. You have to make him want you as the rarity that you are, then he will chase after you like a madman." With the other hand, Ivan reached up and removed Matthew's glasses, placing them down on the bench. "I will help you practice."

"Prac...tice?"

"Da." he leaned forward with a smile and brought his lips to Matthew's.

* * *

Matthew touched his lips with gentle fingers as he stared into his bathroom mirror. His hair was a bit tousled and his face was still pink, but his lips glimmered a nearly cherry red as they held the experience that the Russian had given him. They had not had sex... Matthew wasn't like that, but they did have an ice melting make-out session in the ice-rink benches.

_"Show confidence and not only will the women notice, but that flashy man will notice you as not a toy, but irresistible territory. Let's play a real game of hockey soon, da?"_ was the last thing Ivan had told him before going off to find someone named... Feliks?

Now Matthew stood in his bathroom dressed in a smooth black casual suit with no tie, and the top button of his white shirt undone. For finishing touches, Matthew removed his glasses and set them down next to the sink, then he brought his shoulder-length, blonde, wavy hair back and out of his face with a ribbon. With one last look in the mirror, he dusted off his shoulders and turned on his heel to leave. This would be his last attempt for not Francis' _body_, but his _love_.

**End of Chapter One**

* * *

_**A/N**__: Well this is my second story on here and I just love boosting people's confidence, so it's a win/win, yay :) The next chapter should be posted soon, so stay tuned ;D_

_*__**1972**__: in 1972, the Summit Series, the Canadian male hockey team went against the Soviet Union team in a best out of eight game. In the last game, Canada won in overtime. (haha I totally didn't expect that, but woo Canadians)_

_*__**Feliks**__: that's Poland ;D_


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING**: _This story contains male/male erotic material (thus rated M) in the pairing of Franada (France and Canada.) _Oh, and in case anyone thought I was the owner of Hetalia, Hidekaz Himaruya, I'm not ;-;

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**Chapter Two**

Again, the French estate reeked of perfume, but this time Matthew knew why. Making his way down the hallways, he took time to examine the many portraits and statues, after all, he was in no rush. Finally making it to the door that he had stood in front of just a few days ago, he opened the door fully without pausing to knock. Inside was the same situation he had seen before, with women all around Francis, but this time, they didn't look at Matthew as an intruder and didn't wait for Francis' approval, but gawked at him with blushing cheeks. Matthew closed the door behind him and took a place on the elegant love seat that was against the wall. He sat leisurely with his arms draped lazily over the back of the seat with one leg crossed over the other.

"Good evening, ladies." he smiled with half-lidded eyes and long eyelashes that were no longer covered up by his big glasses that hid his naturally amethyst eyes.

"Oh my! Who is this Francis?" One woman hissed excitedly as she continued to stare at him with excited eyes.

"Good evening, handsome." one of the women said as she walked over and curled herself up against his side, another took the opportunity to do the same with his other side, and a _third_ woman was even shameless enough to sit on his thigh and trace his exposed collar bone with a finely manicured hand.

"What's your name?" the shameless woman asked him through deep red lips.

"Matthew Williams." he smiled at her and gently craned into her touch, despite how it made his skin crawl.

"And how do you know Francis, Matthew?" she smiled and purred as she scooted closer until she was completely in his lap. Matthew suppressed a shiver at how awkward and nervous he felt inwardly at having so many women on him, like falling within inches of a piranha tank, but this was no time to revert to his cowardly self. He looked directly into France's shocked blue eyes and gave a sexy smile.

"We're _just friends_." he laughed and looked back to the hungry girls that he had entrapped in his amethyst eyes as they trapped him with their bodies.

"Well then..." the woman in his lap shifted to press her chest against him while gently tracing up his neck to his jaw. "I'd definitely like to be more then just friends." she smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

"**Don't touch him**." Francis growled as he practically yanked the woman out of Matthew's lap, "**Laisser!**" the rest of the women backed away from Francis with wretched expressions and ran to the door where they hissed cruel words and un-ladylike terms before rushing toward the exit. Francis came after them to slam the door, leaving him and the Canadian alone.

"What's wrong my _good friend_?" Matthew smiled bitterly as he looked away from Francis' back. Why would Francis make them leave? Was he jealous that Matthew was getting more of their attention? "Were they not suitable to your tastes?" In a quick motion, Francis grabbed Matthew's shirt collar and pulled him to his feet.

"What the **Hell** did you think you were doing!?" Francis hissed through clenched teeth as his eyes narrowed into thin slits, darkening his usually bright blue eyes. His accent deepened his words making them all the more venomous.

"Just having a little fun, like you like to do." Matthew gripped Francis' wrist harshly until he felt the fingers go slack, then he tossed the Frenchman's hand away. Francis' eyes widened in shock, but Matthew could still hear the growl in his throat. Francis felt fire in his veins. Matthew had never acted this way, he was shy with a low self-esteem and brother issues, he was** not** a damn woman's man. The geeky composure hid Matthew well from venomous women, but underneath was something that Francis couldn't contain or hide away even if he tried, Matthew was too beautiful. Now with all illusions gone, the Canadian stood tall and elegant, it made the Frenchman's heart ache as he had never seen this complete side of Matthew. Francis never really understood why he felt so strange around Matthew, after all, he was _always_ with other people, but the Canadian struck him in ways he couldn't even begin to understand. But strangely enough, that feeling was the reason that Francis always came back, no matter how many times he thought he could shake it off, no matter how many women he had slept with to get his skin to stop burning for the man, the young Canadian had a grip on him... even though he had sworn to himself years ago that he would not lose himself to anyone, in the blink of an eye Matthew had ripped that stone promise to shreds just by looking at him.

"Is this some kind of joke, or are you just angry with me?" a pained smile crept onto Francis' face, Matthew had gone silent, this caused Francis' blood to run cold as his heart began to beat at a frantic pace. Is that why Matthew had done this? Was he mad? Francis laughed inwardly, no, Matthew never got mad. He would cry and attempt to shout, but he was too soft for that, too gentle. "You are mine." Francis found himself stating in a scolding tone. "I won't let anyone else touch you, and I won't let you touch anyone else-" Francis reached out to try and grab Matthew, to hold him and make everything normal. Then Matthew would just end up crying and in his arms again, and that's how it was supposed to be, so that... he would never leave, but as the Canadian finally met his eyes, the most venomous glare seared like flames in his abnormally stone cold eyes. Before the Frenchman could blink, Matthew shoved him onto the bed and straddled his hips. Francis rose up on his forearms, but Matthew gripped his hair and yanked his head back down before kissing him, hard. Francis' burst of profanities turned into a shocked moan in the Canadian's mouth, when they parted Matthew looked straight into Francis' eyes. Not a single tear.

"You are **mine**," Matthew corrected before he grasped the ribbon in his hair and pulled it free, releasing his wavy, golden hair which caressed his face and fell to feather over Francis' cheeks. Then Matthew gathered up Francis wrists and with the long ribbon and bound them to the bed's headboard in a series of knots that left the Frenchman even more helpless. "and I'm pissed."

"What is this... bondage rope!?" Matthew didn't answer, but slid from his lips to his neck where he bit down just hard enough to leave a mark. "Baiser! Matthew what are you doing!?" Francis shouted past the frantic beating of his heart. Matthew ripped open Francis' robe, found a collar bone and bit again harder, and Francis body jerked as he tried to free himself from the rope and cursed when all he did was bruise his wrists more.

"So noisy." Matthew sighed as he leaned up to slide his jacket off and then unbutton and toss away his shirt before returning his mouth to Francis' skin. Feeling Matthew's tongue and teeth on his body brought chills up and down Francis' spine. Matthew- little, adorable, silent, cry-baby Matthew- was taking the lead so aggressively, and with _him_! Against all the will Francis could muster, he felt his blood rushing to one specific area, and Matthew felt it too as it rubbed against his backside. There was a smile in his voice "Just let yourself go." he said in a slightly commanding tone as he reached behind him and grabbed the free erection while at the same time biting down on Francis' shoulder.

"Chier! Matthew..." He cursed and grunted as he clenched his eyes shut. Damn, he had never gotten aroused so quickly, but with Matthew sitting on top of him and the Canadian's tongue all over his skin, his body wasn't even in his control anymore. Matthew leaned up and gave a devilish smile as he got off of his body and sat on the edge of the bed as he eyed Francis' erection.

"You know I have every right to just leave you like this." he said with a sadistic tone and earned a slight gasp as anxiety painted the Frenchman's features. He slid out of his shoes and stood next to the bed so Francis could see all of him. Blood rushed to Matthew's cheeks as he saw Francis' lust filled eyes scan all over his body, and when those blue irises returned to his face, they seemed to burn for him. Matthew's smile widened as he un-buckled his slacks and let them drop to his ankles. Then with his fingertips he played along the hem of his boxer briefs, severely enjoying how the Frenchman gulped with his erection standing eagerly, and leisurely pulled the underwear down his legs so that he was completely naked. Matthew strode over to the bedside dresser and opened the first drawer where he found a bottle of lube ready. Taking the bottle and tossing it beside Francis, he repositioned himself on his knees between Francis' legs and brought a hand to the Frenchman's excited member. It was hot and burned under his touch, just feeling it throb made Matthew shiver inwardly. He looked up at Francis and found those blue eyes watching his every move with the anticipation of an excited virgin teenager, it was a face that Matthew had never seen before, and it made a warm feeling settle in his lower body. Matthew licked the throbbing shaft in his hand and took the tip into his mouth to swirl his tongue around it before letting his mouth slide down it slowly before pulling his head back and sucking powerfully.

"Mon Dieu!" Francis gasped out as he threw his head back and moaned. Not only had Matthew found this boldness, but he was _good_. This couldn't possibly be Matthew, it was so unreal, but there was no way in Hell he was going to make it stop. Matthew pressed his mouth halfway down Francis' cock, using one of his hands to cover the rest of the distance to the base; with the other hand he held a grip of Francis' hip and forced his shivering and bucking body to stay still with a bruising force. Francis looked down as he panted and met the stunning amethyst gaze he loved so much, but within their depths was something new, something he hadn't brought forth before, it was his full passion. Matthew sucked all the way up Francis' member and it left his mouth with a pop, then he smiled and blew on the tip. The cold breath was shocking and Francis had to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning wantonly, but Matthew saw this and turned sharply to bite the inside of his thigh. "Ah-ck..." he clenched his teeth together. Matthew leaned back and watched him with amused eyes before he picked up the bottle of lube and pouring it onto Francis' cock, the liquid was cold and slid down his flesh in a teasing way before it began to warm up and cause his skin to tingle, then Matthew moved to hover just above the twitching member, but backwards so that Francis had full view of his backside. He then proceeded to pour out some more lube into his hand and tossed away the bottle as he began to probe himself as he clutched at Francis' thigh with the other hand for balance.

Matthew felt incredibly embarrassed showing this part of himself directly, especially with how far apart his legs were due to Francis' muscular build spreading them apart, but he could also feel the shock, pleasure, and intensity that he had generated by the gesture and convinced himself to keep going. It was okay as long as it was _his_ eyes on him, watching him, it made him feel completely enjoyed by Francis, even more then ever. So Matthew let out a shaky breath and slowly slid in one finger, relishing in the feeling that automatically struck his lower body, he quickly inserted a second finger and let out a soft moan as he scissored himself and arched his back as he thrust his fingers in at a faster pace as he bit his lip. He looked down at Francis' member and looked over his shoulder at Francis' wanting blue eyes as he panted. Matthew withdrew his fingers and lowered himself, but then a ragged breath shuddered from Francis' lips. "Please, I'm sorry, just let me see you." Matthew stilled for a moment, the apology seeped into his senses and made him want to melt, it made him want to cry and let Francis hold him, but most of all it made him want to forgive him. But that's not how revenge works. Matthew continued to guide Francis to his bud and then began to lower himself onto the stiff member.

"Don't hold out on me anymore, eh?" He panted before clutching at both of Francis' legs and pressing himself down. The heat that radiated from the member seemed to burn him as it surged from his passage to his entire body. He heard the nylon ropes crack as Francis struggled, but the knots wouldn't budge, as he moved he bucked into Matthew and moaned, no longer caring how loud he was. Matthew smiled inwardly as he began to bounce down onto Francis with all of his strength, smacking against his pelvis each time, grinding on him when he reached the base.

"Chier- Matthew!" He moaned and twisted his wrists. God, it felt so good having the Canadian on top of him. His skin seared in ways that no other person, man or woman, could make it, not even if they burned him with flames. No one, not a damn person in the entire world made Francis _feel_ the way he did when he was with the young Canadian, but he had sworn to himself... sworn he wouldn't fall...

"Francis!" Matthew moaned with urgency as he felt himself nearing his peak. His speed increased as his pace became erratic and wild as he craved more of the heat that bored into him. Francis complied as best as he possibly could as he thrust into Matthew from below, only to be forced back into the mattress again with immense strength. Then Matthew stilled as his body tensed nearly painfully on Francis' member as he came and shivered as he felt Francis' cum fill him. Matthew wasted no time in the feeling, he hoisted himself up and let Francis slide out of him, then he strode over to the restroom where he cleaned himself up. He didn't want to, his stomach tightened at the thought, but he raised his head and looked into the mirror. His hair was a mess, but in a good way, falling around his lightened skin. His eyes looked more clear then they had for months and the ache that had settled in his chest was completely gone, he felt amazing. When he returned to the bed to re-dress, Francis' breathing was calm and slow and his eyes were covered by his hair.

"When did you get so strong?" he muttered in a deep and hoarse voice.

"I've always been strong, you just didn't deserve to see it, and you still don't." He finished dressing and covered Francis with one of the bed sheets before leaning over Francis' face, within an inch of his lips, but no closer. He pulled at the knots that bound Francis' bruised wrists, but left a few as a parting gift. "Just tug a little bit more and it'll come loose." Then Matthew left without another word.

* * *

Francis strode through the town with his friends, Antonio and Gilbert, and a few women they had called out and met at a cafe. They laughed together as they walked the fragrant streets. Two women held onto Francis as Gilbert held the waist of a bold long-haired brunette beauty and Antonio hugged a rather stubborn looking dark-haired woman.

"You look very handsome today Francis." the woman to his left giggled as she nuzzled against his side.

"Yes he does." The woman to his right chirped her approval as she examined his face with wide eyes. "I've never seen your hair tied back before." and it was probably true, since Francis didn't usually like to confine his long hair, but this... was a special case. The white ribbon that held his golden hair was long and every now and again it bushed against the skin of his bare neck and reminded him of the marks that used to be there, of the lips that had trailed his skin as he struggled to regain himself.

"Francis?" one of the women pouted and Francis came back to his senses.

"Ah- oui, ma chère?"

"You've been looking over at the plaza fountain and ignoring us for some time now." she huffed as she folded her arms. Francis looked confused for a moment before searching the fountain and locking his eyes with a set of beautiful amethyst ones that were hidden just beneath a pair of nerdy glasses and wavy, shoulder-length blonde hair. The Canadian looked through him, as if he wasn't there, _as _if_ he didn't even see him there._

Francis found himself walking toward the fountain as the world seemed to slip away from him, the calls of the women, the chattering of city folk, his friends talking to him, it all melted away as he cut across the plaza. His heart beat in such strong pulses that he thought it might jump out of his throat. Those amethyst eyes seemed to **be** his whole world, but they were so coldly distant.

"Matt-"

"Oh," Matthew turned to him and smiled, but it never reached his eyes, not for a moment. "good afternoon Francis, I haven't seen you in so long." He said with the composure of an old colleague. "And who is this lovely lady you have with you, your wife?" he reached out and gently shook the hand of the fine women that Francis had under his arm just a few moments ago.

"Oh! No-" she giggled as she blushed and held a hand to her cheek. "I'm just his girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? Really? This guy over here tricked a lovely lady like yourself into going out with him, eh?"

"Oh, stop!" she giggled girlishly, it seemed to be the most disgusting noise that Francis had heard in his entire life.

"No, ma chère," Francis stepped closer to Matthew and slid his arm out of the girl's grip before glaring at her "you're not my girlfriend." **That** got Matthew's attention and he eyed the Frenchman with curiosity and shock.

"What do you mean? Such a lovely lady like this, you shouldn't insult her or she'll leave-" Francis grabbed his chin and kissed him, right there in the middle of the plaza, right there in front of the woman.

"Please, keep looking at me." he whispered on Matthew's lips before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and smirking at the shocked woman. "This is my _boyfriend_." Matthew's head snapped up to look at the Frenchman; Francis stood tall and strong with clear blue eyes, he looked better then he had in months, he even started to look more like the man Matthew had fallen in love with so long ago. The woman glared at him and stomped off, Francis didn't even flinch. Instead he waved a farewell to the friends he had been walking with (they smirked in an understanding reply before taking off on their own), and gently took hold of Matthew's hand in the middle of the crowded plaza. Francis didn't say another word. Matthew sighed to himself, but he curled his fingers around Francis' hand and smiled into the blue eyes that seemed to reflect the sky above them. Francis leaned forward and brought his lips to Matthew's again. There was nothing left to say.

**The End**

* * *

**A/N: **_I swear I almost threw something out my window when some workers were making some crazy noise outside my window, I. could. not. think. ERG! Phew, and that's why it took so long to finish this and edit it all. Sigh (buzzing still going around in the background.)_

_I tried to do some angsty stuff since all of my little fic plans usually have to do with comedy, heehee. I hope you enjoyed it! ; Oh, and this was totally not inspired by Simon Curtis' song "Flesh" (in denial, because it totally was. That song is flipping amazing by the way.)_

Translations:

_Laisser-_ Leave

_Baiser-_ Fuck

_Chier-_ Shit

_Mon Dieu-_ My God

_Oui (we)-_ Yes

_Ma chère-_ My dear


End file.
